


Little Death

by Sincestiel



Category: The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, bad descriptions of adhd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s his first day back, they’ve been going for about six hours, and Adam’s reaching the end of his rope.  And when he starts to feel like he might literally crawl out of his own skin, he does what he always does.  He stands up, makes his way over to Blake, and plops down on his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Death

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while. But I'm going through and trying to clean out some of my unfinished fics. Found this one already finished and ready to go. So here it is. :)

The day everything changes starts like so many before it have. They’ve been filming all day and Adam’s getting overly antsy. His ADHD always makes it difficult to sit still for as long as the show requires, but he usually makes it alright. The only time it seems to be too much to handle is during the blinds. He supposes it’s because he’s not yet adjusted after having so long off and because they’re filming longer without breaks.

So, it’s his first day back, they’ve been going for about six hours, and Adam’s reaching the end of his rope. And when he starts to feel like he might literally crawl out of his own skin, he does what he always does. He stands up, makes his way over to Blake, and plops down on his lap.

The audience, like usual, starts laughing and clapping and Adam looks out at them, grinning madly, like it’s all just for them. Blake does the same, wraps a huge arm around Adam’s middle and holds on, pecking a kiss here or there to Adam’s neck and the back of his head. It’s all in good fun, but it’s also relaxing. Makes Adam feel less like running laps around the stage, makes it a little easier to focus. Honestly, Adam thinks if he could do the whole show from Blake’s lap he’d be just fine.

“Okay?” Blake whispers worriedly, his hand tightening briefly on Adam’s waist in reassurance.

Blake knows how hard this is for him. And despite his tendency to give Adam shit for the cameras, he generally checks in a few times every day they’re filming and more during live shows. And he has, more than once, gone to the mat for Adam when he needed a few minutes out from under the lights. It’s nice knowing someone has his back. Someone who knows and understands. Someone who cares.

“Yeah, just…” Adam shrugs because there really aren’t words for it, how he feels. The way his skin is too tight and his legs won’t just stay still. How he wants, even now with Blake’s ever calming presence, to climb the walls.

“Need a break?” Blake offers, and Adam can already feel him twisting around, still holding to Adam as he looks for anyone who can get them off stage for a few minutes. Them because Blake always goes too, even if he just stands outside Adam’s dressing room and waits for Adam to get his shit together.

“Nah. It’s good for now. I just needed to see you for a minute.”

It used to embarrass Adam to admit that. That Blake calms him down a little, makes the long days slightly more bearable. But Blake’s never made fun of him for it, never thrown it back in his face, or used it against him in their constant onscreen flirtations. 

“Well, let me know if it gets to be too much,” Blake murmurs against the back of Adam’s head and Adam nods before he levers himself up off Blake’s lap and makes his way back to his seat, a little more in control that he was before.

But that doesn’t last long. They’re only through two more blinds when that itch starts to creep up between Adam’s shoulder blades. The words of the song drifting from the stage start to blur and mix together and his mind drifts off. He pulls himself out of it a couple times within a matter of about two minutes, forces his mind to concentrate on the voice behind him, but each time his thoughts start to wander before he even realizes it.

He misses hitting his button at least once, but he doesn’t care too much. Not really. All he wants to do is maybe flip off the back of his chair a time or two. Do some jumping jacks. Run a marathon. Or maybe even sleep. Something. Anything. Everyfuckingthing.

He’s rearranging himself for the second time since their chairs turned – and it can’t have been that long because Shakira’s still gushing over the girl on stage like she started doing the second Adam’s chair turned – when Blake catches his eye. For a moment they just stare at each other, and under any other circumstances he’d feel like Blake is sizing him up. But he’s not. Not exactly anyway. Blake just knows. He knows Adam is in desperate need of a break and he’s already flagging someone down so that he can arrange it.

The girl steps off stage and this time it’s Blake making his way across. The crowd cheers and whistles when Blake gently grabs Adam’s arm and helps him stand. But neither Blake nor Adam are paying any attention.

“Come on. We’ve got fifteen. Your dressing room or mine?”

Blake doesn’t even ask if Adam needs alone time. He knows, like he usually does, that the last thing Adam needs right now is to be alone. 

When Adam doesn’t immediately answer, Blake leads them toward his. And it makes sense. Blake’s is closer to the stage and Adam’s a hairsbreadth away from going off the deep end right now. 

He hates it when this shit sneaks up on him like this. It’s one thing to know it’s coming. He can prepare for it, kind of get himself in the right mindset to deal with it. But when he’s just a little out of sorts one minute and fighting to keep control the next, it’s hard to cope.

Adam sighs in relief when the door closes behind them and the sounds of the audience and the stage are muffled by the thick walls surrounding them. At least if he completely loses it only Blake will see.

“Fuck,” Adam groans, hands flying up to run through his hair as he flops down on Blake’s couch. But then, a half a second later, he jumps up, hands still tugging at his hair as he starts to pace. “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Blake offers, lowering himself to the couch Adam’s just abandoned, “Come ‘ere.”

“I can’t. It’s never-“ been this bad in front of you, Adam wants to say but doesn’t get the chance because his words cut off when Blake grabs him and drags him down into the lap that’s just the perfect size for Adam. And then Blake is pulling at the hem of his t-shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Skin to skin contact,” Blake answers, finally succeeding in tossing Adam’s shirt aside before he starts working on the buttons of his own. And okay. Wow. The shiver that runs through Adam has nothing to do with the episode he’s experiencing.

“Why would that help?” Even to Adam it sounds like he’s fishing for a believable reason. Just anything Blake might say to justify Adam letting this happen. Because Adam? Well he wouldn’t need an emergency like this to want this. But Blake does and even in his current state, Adam knows he can’t take advantage of Blake.

“It works for upset babies, right?”

“Are you saying I’m a baby?” Adam asks indignantly.

Blake chuckles. “Well yeah. But not because of this. It’s just… this is a base reaction for you, right? You can’t help it or control it. And you already seem to calm down some with touch. Like a baby when they’re crying. So I thought we’d give it a go.”

There’s all kinds of skin peeking out of the front of Blake’s shirt now and Adam blames his complacency on that. Because that actually doesn’t sound like bad reasoning. He doesn’t tell Blake that it’s really only his touch that helps. Neither does he admit that being in Blake’s lap is already helping.

“Okay,” is all Adam says and then Blake’s shirt is open all the way and he just leaves the sleeves on his arms and pulls Adam down, back to chest. And it’s so hot. Not like… well okay yeah. Both kinds of hot because Adam’s shirtless against Blake’s naked chest so there’s some stirring downstairs. But also Blake is so warm.

And Adam’s mind has so many things suddenly to concentrate on, Blake’s warmth, the feel of Blake’s breath over his exposed skin, the rise and fall of Blake’s chest… All together it’s enough to wrangle his mind into submission. He’s got something to focus on now. Something that forcibly grabs his attention and refuses to let go.

His body is still a little out of sorts though. He still feels like he needs to run. Still thinks he could easily slip right out of his skin. Feels like he _needs_ to.

But then Blake’s fingers start making designs on his forearm. He’s got one big palm spread out over his fluttering stomach and the other tracing the tiger etched into his arm. And now…

“If I could keep you around all the time I probably wouldn’t even need medication,” Adam muses as the soothing movement of Blake’s fingers over his bare skin calms him even further.

“Hm,” Blake answers softly, as if he’s in a daze. And then, apropos of nothing really, Blake asks, “How many do you have?”

“Huh?” Is Adam’s highly intelligent response.

“Tattoos,” Blake clarifies, “How many tattoos.”

But then Adam wouldn’t even be able to answer if he knew the exact number anyway because, inexplicably, Blake’s hand moves from the tiger he’s just finished drawing with his fingertip to the eagle stretched from one side of his ribs to the other. And Adam can’t find the air to speak. His body starts quivering, just a pleasant buzz under his skin and his jeans feel even tighter.

“I…” He trails off into a moan when Blake’s palm ends up radiating heat right over one of his hardening nipples. And he’s shocked when Blake answers with one of his own.

“Fuck, sorry,” Blake’s body jostles with his apology and Adam’s attention shifts to his lower back and the prominent erection that’s brushing against him as Blake tries to readjust. But Adam plants his feet on the floor and holds them both still. Blake starts to apologize again, but Adam rolls his body just once, putting fleeting pressure on Blake’s crotch, and any words he might have said fade out into a whine.

“I don’t know how many,” Adam answers honestly and quickly, refusing to let Blake dwell on what they’re doing, “but you can count them sometime if you want.”

“All of them?” Blake asks, his voice wavering. Hopeful. Needy. And Adam’s heart skips a beat.

“Every. Single. One.” Adam punctuates each word with a roll of his hips and Blake’s hands move down quickly, gripping Adam’s hipbones and guiding him now. And Adam makes up his mind. He’s going to make Blake come. Hard and fast in his jeans.

But what Adam doesn’t count on is Blake having the same idea. Because he practically squeals when Blake’s hand moves again and closes over the front of his jeans, massaging instantly and expertly. And the growl that comes out of Blake’s mouth upon finding Adam hard and throbbing already makes Adam shudder almost violently.

They’re both sweating now, thrusting against each other and grunting softly as they speed toward orgasm together. But somehow Blake manages to continue the conversation, as if they aren’t sitting here half naked getting each other off.

“How do you not know?” Adam takes pride in how out of breath Blake sounds.

Blake’s hand slips down a little, fingers rubbing at his balls through tight denim as Blake’s palm bears down on his dick and Adam has no fucking clue how he’s going to make words come out.

“Too m-many… _fuck, baby_ …” It falls out without his permission really, the endearment, but, going on the way Blake’s hips stutter momentarily, it’s not unwelcome.

“Shit, Adam, you can’t… god yeah, right there. Those fucking hips… no one moves like you… harder, please.”

Adam thrusts down with more force and whimpers when Blake’s hand moves in tandem just as hard. His body is hot and jittery all over, but it doesn’t feel like it did before. He doesn’t feel trapped and controlled. He feels owned. Cherished. God. Fucking _loved_.

A choked off cry bursts out of Adam’s mouth just as his cock jerks and spurts into his jeans. He shoves his groin up several times against Blake’s palm before his body just collapses into Blake’s. And he barely even notices the pulsing of Blake’s body behind him when he joins Adam in blinding pleasure and then post coital bliss.

Everything is quiet for several minutes, just soft exhales and deep inhales, until a knock sounds from the door.

“Three minutes, guys.”

“Yeah. Be there in five.”

Adam chuckles because Blake sounds totally fucked out. If the person on the other side of the door doesn’t know what they just did…

“Um… sounds great.”

Oh yeah. They know.

Blake buries his face against the side of Adam’s head to muffle his laugh and Adam has to bite his lip to keep quiet himself. But then he’s biting his lip for an entirely different reason because Blake’s mouth has found his skin. And these kisses are nothing like the ones Blake treats him to in public. This is sensual, hungry, nibbling and Adam moans.

“Fuck, cowboy. You’re going to be the death of me.”

Adam can hear the smile in Blake’s voice when he answers, “A little death. Over and over again.”

Adam rolls his eyes and sits up, scowling at his messy jeans. Luckily it’s not too obvious from the outside being that his jeans are dark because he doesn’t have time to change. He stands up and grimaces when the wet material rubs against his sensitive cock, but then he gets to see Blake all glowing and sated, so the totally gross feeling is worth it.

“Glad I wore a long shirt. This is going to get really uncomfortable though.”

Adam just smirks and shrugs.


End file.
